


chemical reaction

by orphan_account



Category: Haikyuu!!, volleyball nerd fandom
Genre: Dorks in Love, KageHina Week, M/M, SET ME ON FIRE, i had a lot of fun writing this, nerdlords, these guys are turbo weenies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-26
Updated: 2014-05-26
Packaged: 2018-01-26 16:15:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1694522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kageyama's spark has been left unattended for a long time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	chemical reaction

**Author's Note:**

> wowoWOWOWOW i love kagehina
> 
> follow my tumblr: http://spooploops.tumblr.com/
> 
> stab me with a wooden toothpick
> 
> I AM REALLY BAD AT WRITING LONG THINGS so take short ones instead  
> like, no joke this is really short

Kageyama’s spark has been unattended for a long time.  
It resides deep in his chest, dark and dreary with hollow memories of distant words, whispers and laughs of “king.”   
His spark was ignited when he first realized that someone would be there.  
He remembers the words, clear as day, and he has it set on repeat in the cassette of his mind, and it plays over and over again.  
“That stuff doesn’t really matter to me, since you toss the ball properly to me and all.”  
“But now I have this guy tossing to me, so I can get past any blocker.”  
Hinata Shouyou was the boy who was resistant to the flame.   
He was light as a feather, jumping into the air with nothing hitting the floor but the drops of perspiration softly dotting his hairline. Windswept locks that were a shade only equivalent to the sun itself, brown eyes the color of the forest that Kageyama would burn, burn, burn.   
He was pretty sure that Hinata was the cause of the flame itself.  
The shriek of the whistle concluded practice, and Kageyama bolted out of the gym before anyone could stop him. The door slammed so loudly that Yamaguchi gracefully fell onto Tsukishima, leaving behind a confused team and a tangle of legs on the floor (“Sorry, Tsukki!”)  
Rays of sunlight were beating onto Kageyama’s back, seeping into the fabric and onto the woodpile on Kageyama’s chest, with thoughts of innocent brown eyes and very faint freckles dotted on button noses, pale skin and delicate features that accompanied the boy who was so heavy that if you threw him he would not even dent, but jumped into the air with the wind on his shoulders and whispers of the crowd that cried “how?”  
He was in his room, and the fire was going once more, scorching and burning that name, until even the wisps of the lost syllables had created the tattoo of Hinata on his brain. It roared and burned but it did not hurt, only left a radiant heat surging through his fingertips and dancing on his cheeks.  
I wish it would rain today, Kageyama thought. He knew that rain couldn’t put out the hungry beast hammering in his ribcage, and he was pretty sure he didn’t want it to, anyway. So he ignored his thoughts, his feelings, mentally writing them on a piece that said one word only, later.  
It didn’t work.  
[They say that when one person encounters another, it causes a chemical reaction.]  
Hinata’s hand is warm, and he tastes like sunshine and caramel, syrup and candies basked in his grandma’s oven.  
[Do you still want to be a volleyball player, Kageyama?]  
[You need to focus. You are useless to the team if you don’t.]  
[People can be cruel, Kageyama.]  
The tiny spark in his chest ignited once more.  
The difference is, this time, Kageyama let it burn.


End file.
